If you've ever lived and loved the night life, chances are, at some stage during your carousing, cruising, boozing and late night losing, you'd have come across Peter Head. His self-penned sublime songs and lyrics tell tales tall and true about Australia's crooks, hookers, pimps and thieves.

Head's night time netherworld of ivory tickling in smoke-filled rooms, singing wayward songs about wayward people, is unique in Australia, our very own musical journeyman; always outside the crap and corruption of the music industry, always laying down a magical rolling chord, a riff, a poignant lyric, a primal-honed voice - frayed at the edges as it is, rasping, growling, crackling, and about as soulful as it gets.

Try listening to his self-penned opening song I Don't Believe, for instance, without shedding a tear - or if you think you're real tough, without almost shedding a tear.

Head's fresh interpretations of songs from a few of his heroes like Tom Waits, Randy Newman and Ray Charles are not only commendable, but demonstrate the uniqueness of his voice and his very original phrasing. Not to mention his world class piano playing. A master.

So slip into relax mode, friend, take a drag and pour a stiff one, lay back and soak up one of Australia's very real musical greats. Vincent Lovegrove